


The DUMBO Streaker

by blipblopblork



Category: Forever (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Jo thinks like a detective, Reveal, immortal reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-25 10:46:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2618951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blipblopblork/pseuds/blipblopblork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Henry finally tells Jo everything. Her reaction is unexpected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The DUMBO Streaker

**Author's Note:**

> Some geography notes:
> 
> DUMBO is a neighborhood in Brooklyn - it is an acronym for Down Under the Manhattan Bridge Overpass. On the show, Henry resurfaces in the water near DUMBO in between the Manhattan and Brooklyn Bridges, right near the Empire-Fulton Ferry section of Brooklyn Bridge Park. (This is a very popular spot for television and photography shoots - other notable shows to have filmed nearby include Glee and White Collar)

It’s a little over a month after she first sees his gunshot wound before Henry finally sits down with Jo and tells her everything.  
  
Truly everything. Down to the last detail. The immortality, Abigail and Abe, the mysterious Adam, even popping up naked under the Brooklyn Bridge. All of it. The story takes the better part of an evening, and he watches as she sits rapt, silent, taking it all in - nodding at the right moments, but otherwise offering nothing, no indication of whether she believes him or thinks him mad. Henry may be adept at reading dead bodies, but reading the living comes less easily.  
  
Eventually, he comes to the end of his tale. The bar has cleared out, their glasses sit empty, long untouched, and he looks at her - watches the gears turn in her head as she comprehends what she’s just been told, tries and fails to anticipate how she’ll react. She’s silent for a minute at most, but to Henry, it feels like a lifetime (and he would know.)  
  
And then she speaks.  
  
“Wait… you’re the DUMBO streaker!?”  
  
Henry isn’t sure he’s heard right.  “I’m sorry, what?”  
  
“The DUMBO streaker. Caucasian male, mid-30s - or at least _apparently_  mid-30s, several sightings in the vicinity of Brooklyn Bridge Park, never caught. You just told me you regularly reappear naked right by Fulton Ferry. It _is_ you, isn’t it?”  
  
Henry laughs nervously. “I just told you that I’m nearly two hundred years old, immortal, that my elderly flatmate is actually my son, and the detail you’re choosing to focus on is that I’ve had to run naked through the park a few times?”  
  
And now she laughs too. “I suppose when you put it that way, it does sound a little odd. Should I take that as an admission of guilt?”  
  
Henry smiles. They were going to be okay.  
  
“Only if you don’t arrest me."


End file.
